


Keep Bleeding Love

by misura



Category: The Graveyard Book - Neil Gaiman
Genre: M/M, Post-Canon, Trapped, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 17:51:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17647139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: Silas and Bod get trapped together.





	Keep Bleeding Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NeverwinterThistle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeverwinterThistle/gifts).



Silas smelled Bod's blood. He smelled it well enough to be able to imagine what it would taste like.

Neither of these things were things Silas wanted to think about. He did not want to look at Bod and think 'food'. When the ceiling of the place that had once been his home had come down, he had not looked at Bod and thought 'food'. In fact, he hadn't thought at all.

Thus, one might argue that their current situation was entirely his own fault.

"Do you think someone's going to show up to rescue us?" asked Bod.

"I consider it rather more likely someone will show up to ensure our death." If they were lucky, that would happen soon. Then Silas would be able to go back to looking at Bod and not thinking 'food'.

"Oh," said Bod.

"You're hurt," Silas said, because he did not want to hear what he would sound like if he said, _You are bleeding_. He did not want to see the expression on Bod's face if he said that.

"Not seriously," said Bod. "And I brought my backpack. It's got food in it, and water, and lots of other stuff. Maybe even something we can use to get out of here."

'Here' was what had once been the basement of Silas's home. He supposed it still was, even though the part of the house that had been over the basement had ceased to exist. The entrance to the basement had been blocked by the resulting rubble, which meant it would be a while before anyone would be able to get to them.

At the time, that had seemed like an advantage. Now, Silas wished he'd chosen differently.

Bod might not even struggle, if Silas were to attack him. And, of course, Silas would be careful. He would drink only a little bit of Bod's blood, just the amount it would take to regain enough of his strength to get them out of here. He might even take away Bod's memories of what had happened, after, so that it would be as if it had never happened at all.

Silas shivered. He felt light-headed, almost human.

"You're hurt too, aren't you?" Bod said. "You should - oh."

It was a very soft 'oh', but it carried a heavy load of meanings. Silas managed a wry smile, even though Bod probably couldn't see his face in the poor light. "I need a bit of rest more than anything else."

"You promised that if you ever needed my help, you would ask," said Bod.

Silas did not point out that that was not quite what he had promised. "And so I will."

Bod licked his lips, and Silas felt himself track the movement. Drinking someone's blood did not have to be something intimate. In many ways, Silas took his meals the same way humans would eat breakfast, or lunch, or dinner. Most of the time it was nothing more than preventing yourself from falling over because you had gotten too hungry to keep upright.

Sometimes, though, breakfast _was_ something intimate, shared between lovers, or friends, or family members. Dinner could be a special occasion.

"I want to help," said Bod, and Silas told himself that there was a world of difference between Bod wanting to help and Bod wanting Silas to feed on him. If Bod did not know this, then at least Silas did.

"Perhaps it might indeed be wise to make an inventory of what items we have at our disposal," said Silas.

"Does it hurt?" asked Bod. "All the books I've read say something different. Not," he added quickly, "that I think any of them were written by anyone with the least idea of what they were writing about."

"Yes," said Silas. He did not add whom it would hurt. As far as Silas was concerned, it did not matter in the least. Soon enough, someone would show up with the intention of making sure that the two of them were really dead, and then Silas would feed.

In the dark, Bod might not even see all that much, though of course there might be sounds. There often were, when Silas fed, though over the years, he had become rather neater about the whole business than he had once been. Still, when you set your teeth in a human being who was, for the moment, still alive, a certain amount of noise was inevitable.

Bod swallowed, drawing Silas's attention to his throat. "I don't mind."

 _I do,_ Silas thought. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

A mistake: Bod immediately sat up a bit straighter and said, "Tell me."

"This is not a good time," said Silas.

"When would be a good time?" Bod asked.

 _Never._ There were not so many of Silas's kind around that he felt a need to warn Bod about them. Miss Lupescu had provided Bod with the basics, via her lists: that ought to do.

"You can do it without killing me, can't you?"

"My self-control is a bit frayed around the edges, but I do not yet pose a threat to your safety," Silas said. "If we need to wait a long time, that may change."

"I don't believe that," said Bod. He sounded very certain, and very young. "Besides, isn't that all the more reason to take care of things right now?"

Silas wanted to point out that Bod couldn't have it both ways: either Silas never posed any threat to Bod whatsoever, and therefore did not need to feed on him, or Silas would eventually pose a threat and therefore did need to feed on someone.

Then Bod scooted a bit closer and said, "Silas," in a tone of voice that made Silas almost forget what they had been arguing about.

Had Silas been human, he might have found himself in trouble. Bod was very close now, warm and alive and trusting, and Silas felt his body respond to the idea of taking some of that warmth and life and trust for himself. _It wouldn't even be taking,_ a small voice in the back of his head whispered. _It would be more like accepting a gift, because it's your birthday and you deserve a gift on your birthday, don't you? And cake. And balloon animals._

Silas didn't think that he had ever eaten cake in his life, let alone any balloon animals.

"I think I'm about to die of embarrassment," Bod said. "Do you think that's possible? I thought - well, never mind. I guess I was wrong."

Silas briefly closed his eyes. _Humans,_ he thought, and this time the voice in his head was his own. It felt like he'd only taken his eyes off of Bod for a few years, and now suddenly Bod was all grown up, as full of potential as ever, and mistaking a sensible course of action for outright rejection.

Not that Silas had any intention of acceptance. Still, if the matter were to come up at all, he'd intended to be subtle about it. Gentle. He had assumed that he would have more time, that he would see it coming.

"You were not wrong," he said, seeing no other way to fix this. He might not be able to do anything about their current situation, but at least he could reassure Bod that Silas did indeed consider him attractive, that anyone in the world would be happy to have Bod for their friend, benefits optional.

"Oh," said Bod. He had begun to move away from Silas. By the time Silas realized that this was no longer the case, it was a little too late. "You don't have to drink my blood if you don't want to, you know."

"I know," said Silas, finding himself with an armful of Bod and an inability to do physically what he had failed to do verbally.

"I think that maybe you should, though," Bod said, kissing him again.

Silas started to shake his head, but then Bod bit down on his own lip, so that Silas would never again need to imagine what Bod's blood would taste like, and all of Silas's thoughts seemed to have slipped right out of his mind, except for the one that at least he still didn't look at Bod and thought 'food'.

(What he did think was, at once, much nicer and far more terrifying.)


End file.
